There are certain places that hold almost a mythical sway for many of us. For me, one of those
places is New York City. So much of American life seems to rotate around the hub of that great city.
Until just a few years ago I’d never been there. So when an opportunity came our way while we were
living in Maryland, we jumped on it. We were given tickets to see the Rockettes’ Christmas Show at
Radio City Music Hall, along with the accompanying bus tickets from Baltimore.
I don’t think I’ll ever forget the thrill and the stomach butterflies when, from the New Jersey Turnpike I
first saw the Empire State Building towering above the cityscape across the Hudson River. The
tingle only increased as we rode into Manhattan and eventually were deposited a few short blocks
from Times Square. And Times Square itself is of course a bright, pulsating assault on the senses
from every corner. Just about every kind of image imaginable is there in some form, competing for
your attention. And I mean every kind of image.
It got Michele and me talking about what it would be like for a Muslim tourist from some Middle
Eastern backwater where images and morals are very strictly controlled, to see New York for the first
time. And assuming that they don’t get out of the city, given that they’re generally told that this is a
Christian country, what they might conclude about the fruits of the Christian faith. For us it was kind
of easy to imagine how they might think of the West as a lost cause, and worthy of divine judgment.
This troubling thought at least briefly seemed to thicken the clouds that hung over Manhattan on
that December morning. And it’s something that’s hinted at this morning in our passage from Paul’s
Letter to the Philippians. It’s a message that especially fits our Lenten emphasis on introspection
and penitence. As our passage begins (Philippians 3, verse 17), Paul has just finished warning his
readers about how the law can’t bring righteousness, but that only faith in Christ can bring
righteousness.
And now he turns his attention to the opposite problem. It seems that then, as now, there were
people who in some way wore the name of “Christian”, but whose behavior didn’t match the label.
He goes from warning against legalism to warning against something that’s come to be called
‘antinomianism’, antinomian meaning “against laws.”
You might call it ‘spiritual anarchy,’ or just plain self-centeredness.
Paul begins in verse 17 by calling on people to imitate him. At first blush this may seem a little
prideful, but I’m sure that Paul wasn’t all puffed up when he wrote these words. I think the simplest
way to understand these words is to recall the same writer’s words to the Corinthians: “Be imitators
of me, as I am of Christ. (1 Corinthians 11:1). Paul can say with a measure of confidence and
maybe even of relief, but not with selfish pride, that he’s an imitator of Jesus, and he calls on all the
Christians at Philippi to be the same.
Then Paul contrasts this with an unsavory alternative. He says, “For many live as enemies of the
cross of Christ; I have often told you of them, and now I tell you even with tears. Their end is
destruction; their god is the belly; and their glory is in their shame; their minds are set on earthly
things.” While we can’t say for sure exactly who he’s referring to here, he’s reminding believers of
whom they’re really serving. He’s directly saying here that, if people’s focus is mainly on satisfying
their own fleshly desires, they are enemies of the cross of Christ. Self-absorption and satisfying
selfish appetites are not the way of the Cross.
This is a theme that Paul writes about in several of his letters. He contrasts “being in the flesh” with
“being in the spirit.” Now, this is something that’s easily misunderstood.
Paul’s not saying that our bodies are evil, or even more broadly, that matter is evil; and that spirit by
comparison is good. That really is more a Hindu or Buddhist idea.
Instead, when Paul uses the word “flesh” in this context, he’s talking about broken human nature. It’
s about what we, in our fallen human state, often naturally gravitate toward when we don’t have
Jesus in our lives—that being sin. To Paul, being in the spirit is the opposite of being in the flesh.
When we come to believe that Jesus is Lord, and that God raised him from the dead (as we heard
last week), he sends the Holy Spirit to dwell within us. A genuine believer will be genuinely
indwelt by the Spirit. Paul writes in Romans 8 “Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does
not belong to him.”
And when we’re indwelt by the Spirit, changes begin to happen. Our priorities start to change. The
law that’s now written in our hearts alerts us when we’re going off the rails. It’s a cleaning up
process and a regeneration process that starts at the very moment we give ourselves to Jesus, and
builds toward that day when our spiritual restoration is joined by our physical restoration when Jesus
returns. This is what Paul means when he says in verses 20 and 21: “But our citizenship is in
heaven, and it is from there that we are expecting a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. He will transform
the body of our humiliation that it may be conformed to the body of his glory.” So when Jesus truly is
our Lord, our worldly priorities begin to shrink. We secure eternal life and the Lord begins the
process of transforming us.
Many are inclined to call themselves Christians because of cultural factors, or family factors, or even
because they may not really understand what it is to be a Christian. But being an authentic
Christian is a matter of investing our faith, receiving the Spirit, and being open to the transformation
to begin. It means to have a citizenship in heaven. The Greek phrase might best be translated:
“belonging to the commonwealth of heaven.” This would have spoken volumes to the Philippians.
They were a military outpost of the Roman Empire, and were constantly thinking of Rome and
looking to Rome.
Being secure here on this continent I think we tend to take our own American citizenship for
granted. I remember when I was a college student traveling in Europe the train porters would come
into the cabins and thoroughly scrutinize the passports of each passenger when we crossed
national borders. That is, except when we presented an American passport, which was given a
quick wave of approval. That was an eye-opener for this young American hippy, and made me want
to act in a way worthy of my status as an American citizen.
I don’t know if it’s still this way, but there’s a parallel here. Paul is telling the Philippians that when we
wear the name “Christian”, and carry the passport of salvation, we need to conduct ourselves in a
way that honors the sacrifice that allows us to enjoy our freedom in Christ. Many people have died
to keep us free as Americans, and Jesus died to free us forever. Grace is free, but it’s not cheap.
So Paul exhorts us to be imitators of Christ and through the power of the Spirit, to put His heavenly
priorities higher than our own fleshly priorities.
The great Bible scholar F. F. Bruce writes: “The Spirit is the sanctifying agency in the lives of
believers: he wages perpetual warfare against the flesh, but he is more powerful than the flesh, and
can put the flesh progressively out of action in those lives which are yielded to his control.” In this
way as individuals we become good citizens of heaven, and as a church we become an outpost of
heaven in the midst of the suffering and brokenness of this earth.
Paul concludes this passage with an appeal to stand firm. Most Bible scholars believe that he’s
saying that, based upon what he’s just written about not falling into either legalism or spiritual
anarchy, we need to stand firm in the Lord’s truth, and that truth includes both salvation by grace,
and recognizing that we need to surrender to Christ and His Spirit in order to truly live as citizens of
heaven. For us as believers, as heirs of the kingdom of God, in this life we will be tempted and we
will sometimes fall.
And I conclude with a very simple, three-step process by which we insure that we remain good
citizens. First, we acknowledge wrong as wrong. The Decalogue we recited last week is the heart of
what believers understand of right and wrong. And the teachings of the Scriptures, especially in the
New Testament, are the body—they’re the picture of what goodness looks like. I single out the New
Testament because these are the documents that most clearly teach us God’s ways from the Son of
God himself, and from those who were closest to Him. If our thoughts or behavior violate the God’s
standards, this is called “sin,” and we need to do a course correction.
Second, this course correction begins with us observing and admitting to God that we’ve sinned.
This is called confession, and it’s something we do every Sunday in this service. When we do this
we’re assured by the words of St. John: “If we confess our sins, the Lord is faithful and just and will
forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” The result of this forgiveness is
freedom, reassurance and joy.
Third, we take an extra step beyond confession. We consciously turn away from the things that are
displeasing to God, and ask Him to give us the power to walk in his ways, because we can’t do it
under our own power alone. This step is called repentance. Repentance literally means to turn
around or to change our mind. Even though God has the power to change us thoroughly and
instantly, we struggle in this life with letting him do this in us. It’s most often a process of two steps
forward and one step back. But again, God’s grace is nothing but good news for us, because he
forgives however many times we need forgiveness. There’s no “three strikes and you’re out” policy
with God. So our sometimes difficult changes are made within the freedom of forgiveness for the
asking.
As we continue our Lenten focus on being good citizens of the kingdom of God, Paul provides us
with the fuel of encouragement for our hearts by concluding with these words: “Therefore my
brothers and sisters, whom I love and long for, my joy and my crown, stand firm in the Lord in this
way, my beloved.” May we do exactly that. Amen.
places is New York City. So much of American life seems to rotate around the hub of that great city.
Until just a few years ago I’d never been there. So when an opportunity came our way while we were
living in Maryland, we jumped on it. We were given tickets to see the Rockettes’ Christmas Show at
Radio City Music Hall, along with the accompanying bus tickets from Baltimore.
I don’t think I’ll ever forget the thrill and the stomach butterflies when, from the New Jersey Turnpike I
first saw the Empire State Building towering above the cityscape across the Hudson River. The
tingle only increased as we rode into Manhattan and eventually were deposited a few short blocks
from Times Square. And Times Square itself is of course a bright, pulsating assault on the senses
from every corner. Just about every kind of image imaginable is there in some form, competing for
your attention. And I mean every kind of image.
It got Michele and me talking about what it would be like for a Muslim tourist from some Middle
Eastern backwater where images and morals are very strictly controlled, to see New York for the first
time. And assuming that they don’t get out of the city, given that they’re generally told that this is a
Christian country, what they might conclude about the fruits of the Christian faith. For us it was kind
of easy to imagine how they might think of the West as a lost cause, and worthy of divine judgment.
This troubling thought at least briefly seemed to thicken the clouds that hung over Manhattan on
that December morning. And it’s something that’s hinted at this morning in our passage from Paul’s
Letter to the Philippians. It’s a message that especially fits our Lenten emphasis on introspection
and penitence. As our passage begins (Philippians 3, verse 17), Paul has just finished warning his
readers about how the law can’t bring righteousness, but that only faith in Christ can bring
righteousness.
And now he turns his attention to the opposite problem. It seems that then, as now, there were
people who in some way wore the name of “Christian”, but whose behavior didn’t match the label.
He goes from warning against legalism to warning against something that’s come to be called
‘antinomianism’, antinomian meaning “against laws.”
You might call it ‘spiritual anarchy,’ or just plain self-centeredness.
Paul begins in verse 17 by calling on people to imitate him. At first blush this may seem a little
prideful, but I’m sure that Paul wasn’t all puffed up when he wrote these words. I think the simplest
way to understand these words is to recall the same writer’s words to the Corinthians: “Be imitators
of me, as I am of Christ. (1 Corinthians 11:1). Paul can say with a measure of confidence and
maybe even of relief, but not with selfish pride, that he’s an imitator of Jesus, and he calls on all the
Christians at Philippi to be the same.
Then Paul contrasts this with an unsavory alternative. He says, “For many live as enemies of the
cross of Christ; I have often told you of them, and now I tell you even with tears. Their end is
destruction; their god is the belly; and their glory is in their shame; their minds are set on earthly
things.” While we can’t say for sure exactly who he’s referring to here, he’s reminding believers of
whom they’re really serving. He’s directly saying here that, if people’s focus is mainly on satisfying
their own fleshly desires, they are enemies of the cross of Christ. Self-absorption and satisfying
selfish appetites are not the way of the Cross.
This is a theme that Paul writes about in several of his letters. He contrasts “being in the flesh” with
“being in the spirit.” Now, this is something that’s easily misunderstood.
Paul’s not saying that our bodies are evil, or even more broadly, that matter is evil; and that spirit by
comparison is good. That really is more a Hindu or Buddhist idea.
Instead, when Paul uses the word “flesh” in this context, he’s talking about broken human nature. It’
s about what we, in our fallen human state, often naturally gravitate toward when we don’t have
Jesus in our lives—that being sin. To Paul, being in the spirit is the opposite of being in the flesh.
When we come to believe that Jesus is Lord, and that God raised him from the dead (as we heard
last week), he sends the Holy Spirit to dwell within us. A genuine believer will be genuinely
indwelt by the Spirit. Paul writes in Romans 8 “Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does
not belong to him.”
And when we’re indwelt by the Spirit, changes begin to happen. Our priorities start to change. The
law that’s now written in our hearts alerts us when we’re going off the rails. It’s a cleaning up
process and a regeneration process that starts at the very moment we give ourselves to Jesus, and
builds toward that day when our spiritual restoration is joined by our physical restoration when Jesus
returns. This is what Paul means when he says in verses 20 and 21: “But our citizenship is in
heaven, and it is from there that we are expecting a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. He will transform
the body of our humiliation that it may be conformed to the body of his glory.” So when Jesus truly is
our Lord, our worldly priorities begin to shrink. We secure eternal life and the Lord begins the
process of transforming us.
Many are inclined to call themselves Christians because of cultural factors, or family factors, or even
because they may not really understand what it is to be a Christian. But being an authentic
Christian is a matter of investing our faith, receiving the Spirit, and being open to the transformation
to begin. It means to have a citizenship in heaven. The Greek phrase might best be translated:
“belonging to the commonwealth of heaven.” This would have spoken volumes to the Philippians.
They were a military outpost of the Roman Empire, and were constantly thinking of Rome and
looking to Rome.
Being secure here on this continent I think we tend to take our own American citizenship for
granted. I remember when I was a college student traveling in Europe the train porters would come
into the cabins and thoroughly scrutinize the passports of each passenger when we crossed
national borders. That is, except when we presented an American passport, which was given a
quick wave of approval. That was an eye-opener for this young American hippy, and made me want
to act in a way worthy of my status as an American citizen.
I don’t know if it’s still this way, but there’s a parallel here. Paul is telling the Philippians that when we
wear the name “Christian”, and carry the passport of salvation, we need to conduct ourselves in a
way that honors the sacrifice that allows us to enjoy our freedom in Christ. Many people have died
to keep us free as Americans, and Jesus died to free us forever. Grace is free, but it’s not cheap.
So Paul exhorts us to be imitators of Christ and through the power of the Spirit, to put His heavenly
priorities higher than our own fleshly priorities.
The great Bible scholar F. F. Bruce writes: “The Spirit is the sanctifying agency in the lives of
believers: he wages perpetual warfare against the flesh, but he is more powerful than the flesh, and
can put the flesh progressively out of action in those lives which are yielded to his control.” In this
way as individuals we become good citizens of heaven, and as a church we become an outpost of
heaven in the midst of the suffering and brokenness of this earth.
Paul concludes this passage with an appeal to stand firm. Most Bible scholars believe that he’s
saying that, based upon what he’s just written about not falling into either legalism or spiritual
anarchy, we need to stand firm in the Lord’s truth, and that truth includes both salvation by grace,
and recognizing that we need to surrender to Christ and His Spirit in order to truly live as citizens of
heaven. For us as believers, as heirs of the kingdom of God, in this life we will be tempted and we
will sometimes fall.
And I conclude with a very simple, three-step process by which we insure that we remain good
citizens. First, we acknowledge wrong as wrong. The Decalogue we recited last week is the heart of
what believers understand of right and wrong. And the teachings of the Scriptures, especially in the
New Testament, are the body—they’re the picture of what goodness looks like. I single out the New
Testament because these are the documents that most clearly teach us God’s ways from the Son of
God himself, and from those who were closest to Him. If our thoughts or behavior violate the God’s
standards, this is called “sin,” and we need to do a course correction.
Second, this course correction begins with us observing and admitting to God that we’ve sinned.
This is called confession, and it’s something we do every Sunday in this service. When we do this
we’re assured by the words of St. John: “If we confess our sins, the Lord is faithful and just and will
forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” The result of this forgiveness is
freedom, reassurance and joy.
Third, we take an extra step beyond confession. We consciously turn away from the things that are
displeasing to God, and ask Him to give us the power to walk in his ways, because we can’t do it
under our own power alone. This step is called repentance. Repentance literally means to turn
around or to change our mind. Even though God has the power to change us thoroughly and
instantly, we struggle in this life with letting him do this in us. It’s most often a process of two steps
forward and one step back. But again, God’s grace is nothing but good news for us, because he
forgives however many times we need forgiveness. There’s no “three strikes and you’re out” policy
with God. So our sometimes difficult changes are made within the freedom of forgiveness for the
asking.
As we continue our Lenten focus on being good citizens of the kingdom of God, Paul provides us
with the fuel of encouragement for our hearts by concluding with these words: “Therefore my
brothers and sisters, whom I love and long for, my joy and my crown, stand firm in the Lord in this
way, my beloved.” May we do exactly that. Amen.
Being Good Citizens
Phillippians 3:17-4:1
Phillippians 3:17-4:1
February 28, 2010
Fr. Dan Tuton
Fr. Dan Tuton
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